


Padawan

by BajillionKittens



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A long time ago in a galaxy far far away..., Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 12:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BajillionKittens/pseuds/BajillionKittens
Summary: If he was meant to take on a padawan, then the Force would let him know the appropriate time to do so.And so it did.-----Based on buttered_onion's "Like Those Before: a Star Wars/Voltron AU." Ulaz takes a padawan and teaches him a very important first lesson.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buttered_onions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttered_onions/gifts).



> Be sure to check out the original: [Like Those Before: a Star Wars/Voltron AU](http://archiveofourown.org/series/672224)

Ulaz had never felt the Force pull him toward taking a padawan. There were many in the council who had encouraged him to do so over the years, citing his leadership abilities and calming effect on the other knights, but none had attempted to force his hand. Master Coran was frequently implying that Ulaz could mold even the unruliest of padawans into a suitable knight should he ever chose to, always adding, "the younglings aren't getting any younger." (Which Ulaz thought was a profoundly odd thing to say. It was impossible for the younglings to get younger. Time was not the Force. Time flowed in but one direction—forward.) But for all the encouragement and implications, Ulaz continued on as he was: alone. If he was meant to take on a padawan, then the Force would let him know the appropriate time to do so.

And so it did.

Since his own days as a padawan, Ulaz had always thought of the Force as a deep, wide, gently flowing river winding its way through the universe. While the river of the Force touched on all life, nourishing it with its waters, in the river of his own life, there were no tributaries, no islands, no deltas, no forks. Ulaz flowed wholly uninterrupted and unaccompanied, touching on nothing but the banks he carved for himself. Setting foot in the temple for the first time since returning from a weeks-long senatorial escort, Ulaz could suddenly feel movement in his waters. The slightest trickle of water was beginning to babble and splash as it fumbled its way over rocks and dirt to join with his flow in the Force. A padawan—his padawan.

\-----

"He's a bit young," Coran remarked in a matter-of-fact manner as he and Ulaz stared down from an upper level balcony of the temple at the younglings practicing their lessons in the garden below.

It had taken them the morning to secretly search through the crèche, but Ulaz had finally found the source of the small stream that was slowly joining his own. They'd started with the oldest of the youngling at Coran's insistence, but the Force had told Ulaz his padawan would be found elsewhere. Three class groups later, they found Ulaz's would-be padawan: humanoid, male, dark hair, fair skin, bright eyes—not in color, but in awareness. "Small for his age," Coran continued.

"Others have chosen younger," Ulaz said evenly but somewhat distractedly. His eyes hadn't left the boy since they'd found him. Ulaz watched his every movement with intense interest, even strained his ears in an attempt to hear his padawan's voice. "Others have chosen younger very recently."

A wry smile curled Coran's mustache. That had been a bit of a scandal both in and outside the temple. He sobered his expression before continuing. "You're sure about this?"

Ulaz lowered his head resolutely. "He is the one I choose."

"There are other younglings," Coran said, leaning against the rails of the balcony, jutting himself forward in an attempt to bring himself into Ulaz's peripherals. "Others who are actively seeking a master…"

Ulaz flicked his eyes toward Coran before returning them to his boy below. "If he passes his trials, then I will train him. Him," Ulaz emphasized. "No others."

"And if he doesn't pass?"

"He will." Ulaz cocked his head toward Coran. "What is his name?"

Coran eased back from the balcony rails, his expression warming. "Takashi. Takashi Shirogane. Although I'm told he prefers 'Shiro.'"

A small smile curved Ulaz's lips. "Shiro…"

\-----

Ulaz was off planet the day Shiro began his trials. Peace talks on a remote luxite mining colony had deteriorated to the point of non-communication and the Senate had asked the Jedi Council to assist in bringing the two sides together once more. Ulaz's even temperament, notable even among the Jedi, and familiarity with the planet and its cultures made him a natural choice of intermediary. He had accepted the appointment with the thought that his role in the negotiations would conclude before his padawan's trials would commence. Instead, he spent his late nights and early mornings sending and receiving grainy transmissions from the Temple, keeping himself updated on Shiro's progress.

From lightyears away, Ulaz swore he could feel his padawan's trembling anxiety, taste the pride of his victories. (They would work on that—his padawan's swelled emotions were one of many obstacles to clear as Ulaz straightened the path of his padawan's waters.) After lengthy negotiations, a treaty was signed the day after Shiro was deemed eligible for training as a padawan—even though his master-to-be was in absentia. Ulaz had missed it all.

On his journey back to Coruscant, Ulaz received a transmission from one of the Temple droids reminding him of a previous commitment: he was to be the Temple's ambassador to a gathering on Zuun. If Ulaz intended to honor that commitment and wished to accept the offer of traveling with the Senate delegation who would be attending as well, he would need to join the delegation mere minutes after his return. With those spare minutes, the droid had asked, did he wish to schedule an appointment with his padawan before leaving him again?

Trust a droid to attempt to schedule every minute of the day, but Ulaz had never agreed to anything more quickly in his life. "Have him meet me in the hangar. I will be there shortly."

When the door to his small craft slid open, Ulaz felt an immediate splash in the wide river of the Force. Shiro—his padawan—stood before. He held his hands behind his back, head lowered as bright eyes looked upward to meet his master's stoic gaze. His dark hair had been cut short around the sides, left longer on top, with the very beginnings of a padawan braid swept behind one ear. His robes were fresh and new, and on his narrow hip hung his equally little-used lightsaber, a new awkward weight that shifted his posture. It was the first time Ulaz had the opportunity to observe his padawan in such close proximity, and he resisted the urge to simply stare.

From the splash came ripples radiating out over the Force. Ripples of excitement, doubt, discomfort, anxiety, the distinct fear of having been forgotten. Ripples radiating from his padawan. They sent a chill up Ulaz's spine. (They would work on that—how Shiro had passed his trials with such overflowing emotions, Ulaz was not certain.)

"I apologize for not being able to attend your trials personally, my padawan," Ulaz said, breaking the silence between them. He knelt down in an attempt to bring himself closer to eye-level, but still he towered over Shiro who stood scarcely taller than his kneecaps. Small for his age, Ulaz reminded himself. "As your master, I should have been there." Ulaz extended one wide, clawed hand in an open gesture. "But I am here for you now, Shiro."

Shiro's eyes shined at the mention of his name. He glanced from Ulaz’s offered hand to his face, lifting his chin from where it had been pressed to his chest to meet Ulaz's gleaming yellow eyes once more. With a shy, half-hearted smile, Shiro took Ulaz's hand in both of his own.

There was another splash in the Force's deep waters, but it moved in slow motion.

"Master Ulaz," Shiro said, half greeting and half questioning.

There were no ripples this time—there were waves. Breaking against them one unhurried drop at a time. The Force flowed over them—flowed through them. Individually, then together, then into the great river of the universe. Shiro's tributary flowed into Ulaz’s waters, filling his banks. It was overwhelming, but at the same time, comforting. For the first time he could remember, Ulaz was whole. He had never felt so submerged in the flow of the Force. There was peace. Ulaz would teach Shiro everything he knew of the Force. He would show him the ways of the Jedi. He would see his padawan to knighthood. He would help him in whatever way he needed it. And he would never let Shiro feel as though he had been forgotten again.

As slowly as the waves had come, they receded in equal measure, bringing them back to the Temple hangar as the sensation of the Force's waters subsided. Ulaz felt tiny rings of awe, uncertainty, curiosity, and longing rippling from Shiro in their wake. His padawan's bright eyes flitted about the room for a moment as though seeking out a physical cause for what he too must have felt. When he looked back to Ulaz, his smile had turned lop-sided and amused, silently asking, did you feel that? Ulaz gave a small smile in reply. Yes, he had felt it as well.

"I'm to travel to Zuun," Ulaz said, standing his full height once more and allowing Shiro's hands to slide from his own. There were small , trembling ripples: doubt, fear, anxiety. "Come. You will join me."

The ripples pulsed: Acceptance, excitement, love. "Yes, master."

Ulaz turned and Shiro fell in line behind him, flowing one after the other. They were half way across the hangar floor, Shiro's quick steps sounding out a new tempo to match the swish and swirl of his master's traveling robes, when Ulaz felt an unfamiliar weight tugging on the end of those robes. He turned his yellows eyes to find padawan has latched onto them with his right hand, face focused and determined.

"Do you need me to slow down?" Ulaz asked. It only then occurred to him that his padawan was probably needing to take six steps to his one.

"I can keep up," Shiro said, the slightest hint of whining protest in his voice.

"You must ask for help when you need it, my padawan."

"I will, master." 

But he didn't. Ulaz shortened his stride and slowed his steps unrequested. This, Ulaz decided, would be their first lesson. It was the first thing his padawan must learn.


End file.
